


Four. Oh.

by aboutafox



Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: F/M, First Person, Fluff, Forget About the Comics, Future Fic, Gen, Happy Ending, Happy Endings For Everyone, Kid Fic, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:01:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23408710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aboutafox/pseuds/aboutafox
Summary: Apocalypses come and go. Some things change, and some things don’t. Parties are still not for everyone.
Relationships: Angel (BtVS) & Connor (AtS), Angel/Buffy Summers, Buffy Summers/Other(s)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 33





	Four. Oh.

**Author's Note:**

> In its beginning stages, this story used to be an illusion sequence in my fic Far From Home. I cut it pretty early on, expanded it a bit, and then put it in my digital drawer where it lay dormant for a while. It's not necessary to read the other story to get the plot of this one. However, this fic does contain several plot callbacks to Far From Home. You can still pretend the stories are not set in the same universe, though (I don't even know anymore, if they are). I do that with canon all the time. It works like a charm.
> 
> Also, thanks a lot to the lovely GraceNM for beta-ing this way back when.

I park on the shoulder. High up at the beginning of the driveway, much further from where I usually stop. I'm on time, but the street is already lined with cars of different colors and sizes. Lots of rentals. Many from out of state. As I get out of the Prius, the hot air hits me like a soft wall, thick with the smell of blooming flowers and warm asphalt. Although the sun has already set, the temperature has yet to fall. On the way down to the house, the gravel crunches under my feet. A thin layer of dust settles on my shoes. I check my phone for a text from Gwen. Something came up at work. She is running late, but should make it to the party before midnight. Waving hand. Kissing smiley face. I text her two thumbs up and a red heart. Because well, you know.

As I get closer to the house, I can already hear the murmur of people's voices mixing with the soft tunes of music. The sound rises up like a wave, the undertow of good times pulling you in. The bright lights of the ground floor and the lanterns in the backyard leave the building in a fuzzy glow against the dark night sky. If you enjoy architecture, then you will love this place. It's futuristic and romantic and strangely out of time. They told me that it was designed by a student of Frank Lloyd Wright. Or one of his acolytes. It's probably worth a small fortune, and yet they bought it for a fraction of its price. It had been abandoned for years before we exorcised the Poltergeist that haunted it. I believe that this is the only method to access affordable housing in California these days. If times get tough, we can start flipping real estate. Maybe we can get a show on HGTV. Property Busters or Haunted House Hunters.

I don't bother going up the porch and to the entry door, but beeline around the front yard on a narrow path. The flagstones are lined by torches that burn without fire. No one will mind. This is my second home, after all. Or my third. I know in which cupboard they keep the mugs and in what drawer you find the scotch tape and where they hide the daggers and the stakes. I pass the threshold and feel the low hum of magic that enshrouds everything here. The electric tingle that makes sure that I'm a friend allowed to enter. I am, and of course it does. This is probably the most hexed-out house on the West Coast. Except for the Academy, and the house at the lake, and maybe the Hyperion. The security is out of this world. Willow and the Salem Coven made sure of that. 

In the backyard, the party is in full swing. Paper lanterns rustle from treetops and the awning of the patio. White garlands sway in the breeze that is finally picking up. Glasses chink. Laughter rises and falls. There are hugs and back slaps and the crooked notes of someone singing along to 'More Than A Feeling.' People are not just here for a birthday party, they are here to celebrate themselves. They have survived another year. There are good things in this world. Things worth fighting for. It's become a tradition.

I look over the crowd. I know almost everyone here. These people are my chosen family, too. They are humans and demons, witches and Watchers, Slayers and vampires. They've all saved the world at one time or another. Some of them more than once. It's a strange reunion of people that had nothing in common at some point in time, but now share the same goals. I suppose I could have taken a different route somewhere along the way, but then that never made much sense to me. 

I see Vi and Rona standing in a small circle with a group of Slayers. I walk over and hug them. I shake hands with the Slayers I don't know that well. How long has it been since we've seen each other? Probably a year. I get almost nostalgic thinking about it. We used to fight in the trenches together when we all started out. Right after the Fall. You don't forget that. I see Robin and Faith talking to the Kahns. I wave. They wave back. Maybe they'll stay in town for a couple of days, and we can grab lunch later.

I stand in the middle of the lawn, trying to choose who to talk to next, when someone tackles my calves from behind. I take two steps forward to stop myself from toppling over, a gasp escapes my mouth. They just hang on and laugh. I twist and look down to see my favorite mop of ash blonde hair. The side part is already a mess. At the nape of his neck, the short hair of his undercut has turned dark. Bambi eyes and white milk teeth sparkle up at me. 

"You're here!" He beams. 

I've gotta say being greeted with that much zap never gets old. "Hey, Flash!" I call out with equal excitement. "Did you just hit me with superhuman speed?"

He brims over with glee and nods so enthusiastically I'm afraid he might break his neck. He's pretty proud of how fast he can run these days. "I need to show you something. I have a new lightsaber! You need to come take a look." He lets go of my legs and makes sword-fighting movements and buzzing noises.

"I will. I will. But let me say 'hi' to your mom and dad first!"

He furrows his brow for a moment, unsure if he has enough patience to endure grown-up niceties just now. Then he decides he doesn't and runs off while he yells, "Okay, laaaater!" He squeezes himself through the legs of a dozen adults and vanishes between the guests. 

I wave after him, wondering if I was ever anything like that. I browse over the rest of the crowd when I see Buffy. She's talking to a woman I don't recognize from where I stand. Maybe it's Satsu? They're laughing and killing imaginary foes with paper umbrellas. Buffy spills some of her drink. They laugh even harder now. Buffy's long blonde hair shimmers golden even though it's already dark outside, loose waves falling across her shoulders. She's generally happy, but tonight she looks absolutely radiant. 

I have a weird deja vu of the first time I met her. We'd been cleaning out a goblin lair. Not the most glamorous of cases, but someone had to do the job. We were taking down the last demons when she appeared out of nowhere in the middle of the fight. Entered the room like she owned the place. Killed the last goblin with a single stake throw. I had heard of her before that day, of course, but at that moment, I started to grasp what people talked about when they called her 'The Slayer'. Like she was the only one. And I got why some people were trying really hard to forget. Buffy can be like a punch to the gut at times. And she emanates that gut-punch-energy tonight. Just not in a Mortal Kombat kind of way. There is no uncertainty. She owns this, too. I have learned a lot from her about taking and dealing gut punches over the years. She's become the older sister I've never had.

I'm still stuck in 2007 when she sees me and waves. The other woman turns, too - it's Satsu - and waves as well. Buffy excuses herself and starts walking towards me through the yard.

"Hey, you!" She calls.

"Hi, Buff!" We hug and sway a little. "You look great," I tell her. 

"Awww thanks! You look handsome yourself."

"I clean up okay."

"Where's Gwen?"

"Still at the hotel."

Buffy wrinkles her nose. "Ugh. But she'll be here?! Does her boss know?"

I shrug. "It's not a big deal. I don't think she'll be long. Seems like everyone else made it, though."

Buffy scans the crowd and nods. "More guests are coming. It's still early, you know. But my favorite people are all here." She grins. "Even Giles and Carol made it in time. They almost missed their connection in Heathrow."

"I heard they had some freak weather in England."

"Oh, those storms had nothing to do with the weather." She covers her mouth with one hand. "Giles needs to tell you the story. It's wild."

"I'll make sure to talk to him later, if I can find him in this crowd," I say. Then I lower my voice. "Speaking of people who are hard to find. Did Angel make it after all?"

Buffy's face becomes dead serious in an instant. "It was up in the air until the last minute. But…," she pauses, "...you know Angel. He would never miss a good party."

I give her my best mock-shock face.

She rolls her eyes and laughs. "Oh, he asked me several times if I would mind if he didn't show, but since this is the big 4-0, I think in the end he felt obliged."

"He's here?"

"He's here," she nods her head towards the water, "but he's taking a time out. You should go say 'hi' though. He'll be happy to see you."

Someone calls Buffy from the other side of the yard. She briefly touches my shoulder. "Damsel in need of saving. Don't forget to grab some food and drinks. I'm sure you're starving."

She's right, of course. I haven't eaten properly all day. My shift was crazy again. I walk over to the buffet, grab a plate, and haul some snacks onto it. Then I take a pale ale from a tub filled to the brim with ice and start my way down to the pier. I check the beer twice to make sure that I didn't accidentally grab a bottle of chilled yak blood. Apparently, that's a thing this summer among certain folks. On my way down to the water, I run into more people that I know. I wave my bottle, let them embrace me, awkwardly kiss cheeks around my plate loaded with cheese and greek salad, and these filled puff pastry things. The magic torches also line the path down here, but beyond their flickering blue light, it's dark on the waterfront. You can still hear the noise of the party down here, but the few dozen yards make it seem like the commotion is happening in an entirely different place. I can make out lawn chairs and the remnants of a bonfire. A single person watching the lazy waves. I walk as quietly as I can. 

Angel turns before I come too close. Of course, he does. After all this time, I still can't sneak up on him. I'd be lying if I said it doesn't make me just a little mad. He gives me a smug look. He knows. Jackass.

"Hey!"

"Hi!" I plunge down in the empty chair next to him. "Well, you look like crap."

"Thanks. So do you. How was your shift?"

"Long. Saved some lives."

He nods appreciatively.

"How was work?"

"Saved some lives."

"Only some?"

Angel shrugs and starts turning the bottle he's holding in his hands. "Can't be an exciting day at the office every day."

I nod, too, put my plate down and open my beer with my keys. We clink our bottles together. I take a sip. He takes a sip. We look out at the waves for a while. Listen to the low murmur. The gurgling rush. It's ever-changing yet always the same. The sound and the movement are meditative compared to the coltish hubbub in the backyard. 

"You've seen Buffy yet?" Angel asks and turns to me.

"Yup. She's really excited. Definitely living her best birthday life."

He glances at the waves again. "She never misses the chance for a good party," he says, not really expecting a reply.

"I just had to think about when Buffy and I first met," I tell him.

"When was that? Oh, in that goblin-infested retirement home?"

"We were covered in goo, and she burst into the room like we were two old ladies waiting to be saved."

"We had the situation under control."

"Completely." I put the bottle down and start digging into my salad. "So what are you doing down here? Didn't have a good day?"

He says nothing, but I know that look on his face.

"You had too good of a day?" I try not to sound snarky or roll my eyes. This is Angel. And this is part of the package. The guilt never leaves him. Not entirely. Some days he can push it down until you barely know it's there, and some days it rushes up from below like a geyser, threatening to drown him whole. There are things he'll just not move past. At least not in this decade. And I get it. Or I get part of it. Dealing with people's disappointment and anger is one thing. Accepting their forgiveness is an entirely different beast. Anger you can fend off. Forgiveness you take along for the rest of the ride. I've learned a lot from him about granting and accepting forgiveness over the years. And I've also learned that a good push often gets him out of the water, if you just try. "You know you are the only person in the world who gets depressed when they are having fun," I quip.

He gives me an annoyed sideways glance. "I'm just—"

"Brooding in solitude? And how's that working out?" He's definitely underwater tonight.

"It's all these people. And the party. And there were a lot of times I didn't think that any of them would make it out of all those battles alive…"

"And yet, we all did." I let that sink for a bit. And I hope it'll suffice. We both know it's about more than survival. "I know it's a tough concept, but life doesn't have to suck all the time."

Angel sinks lower in the teak chair. 

"But if it makes you feel better, bad stuff still abounds. Remember, just last week giant fire slugs set Venice ablaze. It looked cool, but it was definitely a security hazard. Also, I think I'm starting to lose hair." I carefully pull on some strands, they are definitely thinner than they used to be. "And Buffy is still hanging with that mouthbreather, all better judgment aside."

Angel looks out at the ocean again, takes another sip, and shakes his head. "I'll never get that."

I follow his gaze towards the water, and as I watch the waves, another thought crosses my mind. "She should have stayed with Jake Mara," I suggest.

Angel raises his eyebrows high. 

"Have you ever met Jake Mara?"

"Oh, I have. He's amazing. He's like the Indiana Jones of Watchers. Doesn't he run the St. Petersburg office now?"

"He doesn't run it, he built it from the ground."

"I heard he saved 100 orphans from a burning building once." 

"In the middle of winter and without shoes," Angel tries to suppress a laugh, he's clearly on drier land now. "We gotta stop this. He's actually a great guy, and his knowledge on demons is almost unrivaled."

"I've seen him face off with Giles once. They were throwing random facts at each other until they broke out in a sweat. It was epic."

Angel finishes his drink and looks up at the house. "I think I need to head up there and at least..." He stops. We exchange a furtive glance. I heard it, too. Footsteps. A rustle. "...say 'hi'." Without so much as a turn of his head, Angel's right arm darts out to the side of his chair. A high-pitched scream rips apart the quiet of the pier. Angel turns to the side, moves his left arm over, and grabs a wriggling shape off from the ground. More screams follow. He raises his arms over his head, lifting a struggling bundle in a light blue dress shirt and navy shorts. It's still trying to break free. No chance.

"Look at that! A ninja!"

"Noo!!" The ninja howls, screech-laughing so hard, that I almost fear he'll suffocate. 

Angel puts him back down before he gets too hyper. His face is already flushed. His comb-over is everywhere, just not combed over anymore. He wheezes and pushes a strand of hair out of his face. Then he climbs into Angel's lap and kneels on his thighs to whisper in his ear. One hand perched on Angel's shoulder, the other forming a small funnel. He whispers so loudly I can hear every word, "I'm not a ninja. I'm Flash. I'm here on a mission."

"Is it secret?" Angel whispers back.

Flash nods. "Super secret."

Angel looks left and right to make sure no one is listening in on us. "Did Batgirl send you?"

Flash nods again. "She says Nightwing and Superboy are needed at the base." He also looks at me with a serious face now, to make sure I understand how severe the situation is. Then he slides back onto the ground.

Angel gets up and rearranges the sleeves of his shirt. He smoothes out his chinos, so they fall properly over his Stan's (how does he keep them so white?) and picks up our bottles and my plate.

We walk back up to the yard, while we discuss the details our mission might entail.

It will definitely include robots with laser-beam eyes. Maybe a bank heist. Nightwing and Superboy are scared. Kid Flash is not. He has dealt with bigger bad guys in the past. As we reach the yard, he notices Gunn at the other side and takes off again. Aqualad also needs to be warned about the alien robots, after all.

"I see the mission was a success. The Flash is definitely the best guy on the squad."

We turn around and see Buffy standing a few feet away. Well, Angel sees Buffy. And Buffy sees Angel. I'm pretty sure I have vanished. If you watch them, you'll notice it's always the same. The first five seconds, when they think no one has caught on, they look at each other like they are the only people in the room. As if we're not standing in the cafeteria of a run-down retirement home with a dozen dead goblins around us. Or in the middle of a party with everyone we know. They have that look on their faces as if the sun decided to come out at night or an Oompa Loompa handed them the golden ticket to the Wonka factory. And then the look is gone. And I'm back. And so is the party.

Buffy lifts her Aperol Spritz in a silent toast and winks. The red liquid and the orange peel slosh from side to side. She takes a sip. "What were you two talking about anyway?" she asks.

I exchange a brief look with Angel.

"Nothing," he says.

"Jake Mara," I cough.

"Oh Lord," Buffy groans and stares at the sky, "when will the Jake Mara jokes finally get old?"

"He's a good guy. Sometimes you need to talk about the good guys. To ground yourself, to figure out what is right," I tell her in my most earnest voice.

Buffy gives us a glare that she usually saves for first-year Slayers, when they drop their stakes. "You know Connor, I'm aware Angel's been madly in love ever since Jake took him out to watch Arsenal together, I just didn't know, you were, too?!"

Angel sighs, "Those were good seats." 

Buffy's lips curl up, there is a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. Then her gaze wanders off into the distance, and she puts a hand down over her heart. "It's been almost 20 years, but sometimes I do still wonder. I wonder what my life would have been like. I think it would have been nice. A bit boring, but nice. I would have stayed in Europe, making crafty things, eating biscuits, drinking tea. We would have gone to the same place every summer. We would have had quiet, cautious children. Who say thank you and bless you and—"

"Mom. Mommy. Mom!"

A yell cuts Buffy's monologue short. A group of kids of various sizes is heading for us at breakneck speed. They have black curls and auburn pigtails, and one has tiny horns protruding from the light blue skin of his forehead. Arti is trotting after them, panting, clearly not in the mood for any more games in this heat.

Cassie stands at their head. Her arms and legs are a tad too long for the rest of her body these days, but there is nothing wobbly in her stance. Her dark ponytail swings from side to side. "Mom, have you seen Ronan? We need an even number to..." Then she notices me and runs over. "Connor! Hi! Hi!" 

We hug. I don't pick her up anymore. At least not in front of her friends.

"Hey, Cass!" 

Arti barks a friendly 'hi' and trots over to lick my hand, tail wagging. The other kids wave and mumble their 'hellos' a bit more reluctantly.

"I think Ronan is with Spike and Gunn," Buffy points into the general direction that he ran off to, "they were having a breath-holding contest earlier."

Angel gives her a side-eye.

"They were letting him win."

"Okay. Cool," Cassie says, and with that, the group is off again.

Buffy and Angel watch them until they disappear.

"I could have led a nice and boring life, but instead, Bruce here and I brought Merida and Kid Flash into this world." 

"They do say 'Thanks' and 'Bless You' though," Angel adds for good measure.

"Yeah, but they are neither quiet nor shy. There's not a single taciturn gene in them," she sighs, "but then I always suspected that was an act."

They exchange a look that I really do not want to get behind.

I take the bottles and plate from Angel, "You guys want some more?" 

They shake their heads 'No. Still good'. 

I walk back over to the table with the food and drinks again. Dawn and Willow are there, looking into the direction I came from. I put the bottles in a crate and grab another pale ale.

"I'm surprised Angel hasn't secretly split yet," Dawn snickers.

"Psh. Not even Angel can get out of Angel's birthday. Buffy really wanted that party," Willow says, "this is like her Christmas in June after all."

"I always thought it had more of an Easter-y vibe," I add.

"She probably threatened him with serious Slayer face," Dawn mimics her sister's expression. We know what she's talking about, it's a fear-inducing sight.

"I'm sure he's scared to death," Willow replies.

I turn around. Buffy and Angel are holding hands and laughing. He still seems pretty alive.

  
  



End file.
